


When is a monster not a monster?

by ToAStranger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Gen, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you love it, Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When is a monster not a monster?

_I am not_

_I am not_

_I am not_

His hands shake. He does not remember the last time he slept. His bones are rattling in his skin. He closes his eyes and there is nothing but red—no synaptic sparks, light show like memory projected on the back of his eyelids, nothing.

He’s cold.

_I am not a monster_

_I am not a monster_

He is. There is blood dried under his fingernails. He cannot get it out no matter how hard he picks at it. His fingertips are almost raw from all of the scrubbing.

He thinks he’d like to see what his hands look like without skin. Watch the bones and tendons shift-strain, watch the muscles move. He wants, he wants, _he wants_ —

There is a longing on his tongue like a bitterness. A thick black coating his mouth, down his throat, to the core of him until heat starts crawling in his veins even as he shivers. There is a phantom on his back, whispering in his ear, and he sways to the siren song.

_I am not a monster_

_I am not a monster_

_Not a monster_

_Not a monster_

_Not a monster_

Lips under his ear, teeth too sharp, and his body seizes. He opens his eyes and there is fire. Eyes like embers burrowing into him to get at the churning fire roiling in his chest. Arms twine round him, one hand resting over his heart, and he arches without a sound. The ghost behind him smiles, saccharine sweet, and clutches him close.

“Not a monster,” he breathes.

The smile grows wider, all teeth, head tilting at an impossible angle. “Then what am I?”

He blinks, frowns, gasps when claws dig into his chest. His abdomen contracts and he grunts. Blood seeps from his mouth.

“What am I?” it asks.

He shakes his head.

“What am I? What am I? _What am I?_ ”

 _A monster_.

He opens his eyes, and wakes alone in bed.


End file.
